Fifteen
by Liebling
Summary: ‘“-it's just...we can't raid coffins and drink constantly anymore.” “Why on earth not?” She says. “'Cause...we're big now,” he whispers.‘ A Draco and Pansy coming of age ficlet. ;) Pointless.


Authors Note: Just a pointless little fic. Pansy and Draco are quite rebellious/out of character in this one but I do like it. It's just a sweet coming of age fic (and we all must come of age eventually, as Pansy and Draco learn.)  
  
Peter Pan: Come with me, we'll never... never have to worry about grown-up things again.   
  
Wendy: Never is an awfully long time.   
  
~Peter Pan  
  
*  
  
"I really would quite like to see you dead," she said with a devilish grin on her pale face.  
  
"Who wouldn't?" He chuckled, his voice cold and distant.  
  
"Maybe Granger, I think she has a thing for you."  
  
"Don't ever say that again," he turns his wand on her.  
  
"Oh don't kill me!" She yells, far too loud, which gets them both odd looks from Professor Snape and Blaise Zabini who are walking amongst the corridors.  
  
He looks daggers at her and puts his wand back in his jeans pocket, "you brat," he mutters.  
  
"At least I don't kill people for fun," she says.  
  
"Yes you do," he says as they both laugh against the wall.  
  
"I know," she says. "Isn't that the beauty of it?"  
  
"You're awfully morbid," he tells her, and means it.  
  
"Remember when we went to your Manor? Do you, Nolan? We used to always dig up the bodies near your Manor. The cemetery. We weren't more than fifteen."  
  
"How could I forget?" He says, giving her a sly grin. "I can't believe we did that."  
  
"It was fun," Pansy says with clear sincerity. "But slightly frightening."  
  
"You never said you were scared," he tells her.  
  
"Like I'd say it," she matters in an 'obviously' tone.  
  
"We would've--you know--stopped," he said with a nod.  
  
She smiles, "it wasn't that scary anyway."  
  
"Yes it was," he said. "I used to always ask you after our 'raids' if you were freaked out and you'd always say in this really tough voice: 'No way Nolan' and you were, weren't you? You bloody lied to me." His voice is teasing, even though no one would've guessed.  
  
"Of course I lied to you," she says dully, "I had to save my pride."  
  
"You have none," he says coldly. "Which is apparent by your 'reputation.'"  
  
"You're sick," she says with a roll of her scarlet eyes. "I have more pride than you will ever fully comprehend Draco Nolan Malfoy."  
  
"Sure," he says, not convinced. "Anyway-" he says in a business like tone "-I knew you were scared."  
  
"You did not," she says flatly. "Impossible."  
  
"Oh please," he says stiffly. "You're just about the simplest person I've ever met. Besides Potter of course, and he doesn't count."  
  
"If you knew I was frightened," she said sharply, "you would've refused to take me on your 'raids.''" Her voice is sure, like one confessing for murder.  
  
"No I wouldn't have," he says quickly. "You're quite funny when you're scared, you know."  
  
"Give over already," she says, "I was tough back then, still am, really. But what do you expect me to be after seeing decomposed bodies and bones?"  
  
"At the time," he remarks although on trial, "you said 'I hope this one was a mudblood' as we went towards a particularly nasty one," and his voice lacks sympathy.  
  
"So what?"  
  
"You're slow," he informs her.  
  
"You're ugly," she adds, and he knows she doesn't mean it.  
  
"That was weak," he tells her.  
  
"Yes, well--"  
  
"Well nothing," he promptly cuts her off. "Darling-"  
  
"Don't ever call me that," she laughs. "I mean, Zabini and Flint call me that...and even Snape, sometimes."  
  
"That's wrong," he says.  
  
"You wouldn't know right from wrong, Nolan."  
  
"Yes I would," he says with a nod as he crosses his ankles and leans against the ebony wall.  
  
"Charms test in a few minutes," she tells him with a grin in his direction. "Study?"  
  
"No," he says. "I don't study."  
  
"Whom do you cheat off of?" She asks.  
  
"No one," was the answer. "Don't care enough to do it."  
  
"You always pass," she smiles, "you've got a gift."  
  
"Nah," he says in an equally condescending tone, "I do well."  
  
And then as an afterthought he adds, "did you study?"  
  
"'Course not," she says. "Why would I, anyway?"  
  
"It's our last year. Next year we've got vocations, these mark....they count."  
  
"For what?" She asks, and her voice is frigid and rebellious.  
  
"I won't say money," he says, his voice simple. "Father...he supplies me with that. And well--"  
  
"--I've no need of a job," she says. "I don't want to be your average witch being a watress at the Three Broomsticks. Won't you agree, Nolan, I'm worth SO much more than that?"  
  
"Of course, Cee," he says, and his voice is laden with sarcasm that for seven years she's never picked up on.  
  
He takes out a cigarette and lights it properly. Smoking it in the corridor.  
  
"Don't put it out," she whispers.  
  
"I wouldn't."  
  
"Good," she says. "Party Sunday night," she informs him. "Ravenclaw dormitory. It's Higgs's."  
  
"Good," he says. "I may go."  
  
"Why wouldn't you go?" She asks.  
  
"Boring," he shrugs. "Really, Cee. We're seventeen, a bit old for childish parties don't you think? You always end up drunk and I always end up snogging some girl, and it never works out."  
  
"I do not get drunk," she says indignantly, "but you always end up snogging someone. It's fun," she says. "It's really fun. Come on, Nolan. It's--we always used to do it."  
  
"We're not fifteen anymore," he says a bit angry. "We can't just fail tests for fun, and we can't get drunk because we feel like it. I can't snog Hufflepuffs and you can't do--" he pauses, looking for a word "--stuff."  
  
"I believe I can do whatever I please," she says coldly. "Look, Nolan, I was just telling you about a party. Okay? We're still children."  
  
"No we bloody aren't!" He says loudly. "We're...old."  
  
"No," she shakes her head, "no way."  
  
"Yes," he says. "You aren't a child anymore, Cee. I can't keep the drunk guys off of you and I can't keep the vodka out of your hands."  
  
"You mean you can't protect me anymore?" She asks, her voice softer.  
  
"Yes," he says, and he wishes it weren't so. "We'll be done with Hogwarts in less than three months and when that time comes, you'll be...Pansy and I'll be Draco and that's it. That's it."  
  
"You aren't make sense," she tells him. "You just aren't making sense," she sounds almost hurt. "I think I'll just ignore you until you buck up. I think I just want to ignore you."  
  
"I'm perfectly fine, Cee," he says. "And it's not like I don't enjoy the parties-" he smirks at the 'snogging' memories. "-it's just...we can't raid coffins and drink constantly anymore."  
  
"Why on earth not?" She says.  
  
"'Cause...we're big now," he whispers.  
  
And he knows how inarticulate that sounds and secretly cares. But she always did do better with simple words and simple meanings.  
  
"Oh," she says. "Oh."  
  
"Yeah," he says. "Oh."  
  
"I don't want to grow up," she tells him. "Never ever."  
  
"I know," he says, "but you'll always have me."  
  
"And you I," she says solidly. "I think...I think it's time we get to Charms now."  
  
"How 'bout we skip it?" He says, his face smiling and his cheeks reddening slightly. Just like when they were fifteen.  
  
"All out?" She laughs.  
  
"All out," he affirms.  
  
"What shall we do?" She asks with a giggle.  
  
"What we usually do when we skip class," he laughs.  
  
"But what about the part about being adults?" She asks.  
  
He laughs and grabs her hand.  
  
"It can wait."  
  
~*~  
  
La Fin 


End file.
